


Five Four Three Two One

by AntaresPromise



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Illustrated, M/M, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntaresPromise/pseuds/AntaresPromise
Summary: “Yuuri, I know you can't talk about your job, but I'll wait. I'll come back to this place, on the same day every year to pretend that we are close again," Victor's voice trailed into a whisper, "for as long as I live.""Victor, if I cared for you any less, I would stay."This is the story Victor referred to later as what not to do if he wrote a column for dating advice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [Louciferish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/louciferish/pseuds/louciferish) for being my wonderful beta for this story!  

“Five more minutes,” Victor pleaded as he buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. His fingers clinging onto every crease of Yuuri’s navy coat.

“Alright,” Yuuri inhaled his scent, resembling the pine forest after the rain. Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut. _I rather see you alive and happy with someone else._

An agent of Yuuri’s caliber couldn’t stay in one place for long. The enemies would catch up to him, including family members of mafia leaders, conspirators of foreign spies, serial killers that evaded justice for twenty years before Yuuri turned them in. Too many wanted him dead.

He couldn’t bear to endanger his parents and sister’s lives. To offer them a wisp of forbidden hope and a feeble amount of reassurance, he sent anonymous snail mail on the first of every month to a home he hadn’t set foot in for five years.

Yuuri imagined what his superior Celestino would say at his funeral, “Agent Katsuki was too smart, too talented for his own good.”

The Organization needed him. Yuuri caught glimpses of ordinary people jogging in a group on this perfect sunny day in May, laughing, chattering, their smiles carefree.

They needed him.

Someone needed to dive into the world’s underbelly, where the grimiest, cruelest and the ugliest side of humanity reared its head. Capable of hacking into servers with impeccable security, picking every conceivable lock, fighting eight people twice his size, Yuuri’s training never failed him.

“I can wait,” Victor’s arm tightened along his waist. “l know you can’t talk about your job. I don’t mind.“ He knew the futility of these words as sand slipping through his fingers.

“I have to go.” _We have no future. Victor, if cared for you any less, I would stay._

A young woman with a chocolate Labrador strolled past them from across the street. Yuuri envied her melodic giggle into her phone; friends, family, home, or even a pet, those were luxuries beyond his grasp.

“I’ll be here, on this day every year, and I’ll pretend that we are close again.” Victor’s fierce determination broke Yuuri into pieces.

Yuuri wished Victor lashed out at him instead.

* * *

 

Four years later, Yuuri wrote the letter V into the steam on the glass door of the shower in a cheap hotel as warm water trickled down his face and the scars on his chest.

Shivers ran down his spine as the phantom sensation of Victor’s long slender fingers tracing words on his back from a bathtub returned.

Victor made him guess those words.

Yuuri played along and mocked the silliness of this game. Then he froze, and pretended to be lost in translation.

Victor wrote a name, and a future Yuuri never dared to even dream of.

 _Victor Nikiforov Katsuki._  

* * *

 

Every year, three letters arrived in the mailbox of the dilapidated house that used to be the Organization’s temporary headquarters; one on Yuuri’s birthday, one on the day he left in May, and the last on New Year’s day.

Yuuri paid a feisty blond teenager who worked at the coffee shop he used to frequent with Victor to collect the letters. He didn’t know when if ever he would return to that sleepy little city by the ocean.

He imagined Victor from across the kitchen table, scribbling with his left hand as a strand of silver hair fell in front of his eyes like the ocean. For once, he loathed his photographic memory.

_Victor, forget about me. Forget that we ever met._

_Trust me love, it’s better this way._

* * *

 

Two months before his most perilous mission, Yuuri made a decision.

The last snow melted in March. He strolled along the bridge, past the bench under the peach tree where Victor promised to wait on the same day every year.

All Yuuri wanted was to see him one last time.

The emergency department where Victor worked as a doctor seemed packed from the outside. Two more ambulances reversed into the bay as Yuuri watched amidst the static of the paramedics’ radio, the sound of gurneys, and of glass doors sliding open.

For a split second, Yuuri glimpsed Victor’s eyebrows furling with concentration as he interviewed a patient with an enthusiastic medical student at his heel. His silvery locks hung longer than Yuuri remembered, his footsteps confident and unfazed.

 _You told me you always wanted to be a doctor, and this is your dream come true._ Yuuri's nails bit into his palm. _I never want to take this away from you._

He knew, if he stayed by Victor’s side, they could never have an ordinary life, because Yuuri’s past would catch up to him. Victor would be condemned to a life forever looking over his shoulders. He couldn’t promise Victor a place called home for longer than a few months.

* * *

 

“One last mission,” Yuuri stood up in the dim office, where rays of sunlight illuminated dust particles in suspension.

“I was wondering when you’d ask,” Celestino pressed his lips together, “Permission granted.”

Yuuri flashed a tired smile, the muscles of his cheeks no longer familiar with the motions. His eyes stung. _Permission to retire,_ Celestino meant. A wave of gratitude washed over him. In his line of work, most of the agents didn’t live past the age of thirty. He couldn’t imagine how many meetings Celestino had to attend on his behalf with the higher ups for them to let him go.

He left his badge on Celestino’s desk, knowing that he would never see him again.

He embraced his mentor one last time. 

* * *

 

Yuuri hardly escaped with his life.

He stumbled away from the raucous police siren after 36 hours with his eyes open. The world blurred into a swirl of blue and red.

He dragged his body into a hotel. An unremarkable black backpack laid slanted on the couch.

He picked it up, and the zipper gave way under his fingers. He kept the old Polaroid picture with frayed edges in its hidden pocket.

In the photo, Victor’s eyes were wide, caught off guard from the photographer, while Yuuri’s arm draped around his shoulder. He ran his fingers over Victor’s angular features.

He emptied the contents of the sac containing his entire life onto the grey carpet where he sat with his back against the couch, surprised at the number of letters  Yuri collected.

He reached for the first, his heart pounding.

**11/29/2016**

**Happy birthday, wherever you are.**

**I’m not the kind to give up; you know that.**

**I am alright, I guess, Makkachin misses you. She wouldn’t eat for five days after you left. You**

**owe her an apology.**

**The emergency department’s been busy, but I still have to say I like my job. Of course there are**

**some days where I have to intubate multiple people, then run codes, and other days where the**

**entire city decides to become intoxicated on the same saturday afternoon. But overall, I am**

**happy.**

**I went to the Swiss Alps this summer, and you’re right, there’s nothing else in the world like it.**

**Then I stopped by Barcelona because you mentioned there’s something magical about that city,**

**and you’re right again. I spent an entire morning inside Casa Batllo.**

**I wish you were here.**

**Yuuri, if I cared for you any less, I would have tried to forget.**

**-Victor**

Yuuri opened another.

**1/1/2018**

**I miss you.**

**I’ll be waiting for you in May.**

**Always,**

**-V**

Yuuri’s grip tightened around the page, he stroked the cursive words, his vision hot and blurry.

_Silly Victor. I told you to forget everything about me, but you didn’t listen._

Yuuri knew exactly what he needed to do.

He woke up on the floor the next morning, in the middle of the pile of letters. He couldn’t remember when dreamless sleep claimed him last night.

He showered and glanced at his naked reflection in the mirror, not much changed over the past five years aside from a few new scars Victor hadn’t seen before.

He pulled a white dress shirt from his closet and left the top button open.

He squinted from the sun’s brilliance, on another beautiful day in May. He contemplated stopping by the flower shop, but he picked up a bag of Makkachin’s favorite biscuits instead.

 _What if he’s angry? What if he doesn’t care anymore?_ His heart was at his throat. _I don’t deserve him, after everything I have done._

He headed towards the bridge, past the ordinary people jogging, biking, walking their dogs. For the first time, his dream of becoming one of them became a palpable, tangible glimmer of reality. _I don’t want to be anything but ordinary. Is that too much to ask?_

A warm nose nuzzled his hand.

His lips parted as the brown poodle rubbed her face against the side of his leg as if not a day passed since he left.

“Makkachin,” he stroked her fur, and she whined from happiness. She must have been too excited and escaped from her leash.

Time seemed to stop as Yuuri turned, because Victor waited at the bench below the peach tree.

Yuuri stepped closer, at loss for words.

They didn’t need them anymore.

Victor’s face lit up, as the first ray of sunshine, “I knew you would come back someday.”

Without realizing it, hot drops poured out of Yuuri’s eyes, down his cheeks, and disappeared into the concrete. He couldn’t speak.

“I know what you are thinking,” Victor spoke for him. “Victor, you are the stupidest, stubbornest person I have ever met.” He pulled Yuuri into his arms, “and you’re right.” He cradled Yuuri’s face into his chest. “This is exactly what I’d say not to do if I was a columnist writing dating advice. Who would wait for someone for five years? Only idiots like me, I guess.”

An agent of Yuuri’s caliber never cried, complained, or lost control of his emotions. He shuddered, “Victor, I’m so sorry.” He choked.

Victor kissed the top of his head, “Shh.”

“Can I stay?” _You deserve the truth and at least a choice._ Yuuri realized the extent of his selfishness five years ago.

“You know I only have one answer to you. Yes, Yuuri, yes, one thousand times over. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care if we have to leave this place. I promised that I would meet you here on the same day every year, for as long as I live,” Victor stroked his hair, “but you have to make things up to Makkachin.”

“Anything,” Yuuri sniffled, “For as long as I live.”

They lost track of time. Nothing else in the world mattered. 

“Yuuri?” Victor muttered into the back of his neck.

“Hmmm?”

“One more minute?” From Victor’s voice, the hint of a smile.

“Okay.”

* * *

Author’s Note: 

This is the companion piece for something bigger, hope you enjoyed it!

Stay tuned.

xoxo

-A 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"For as long as Iive." 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

This is my attempt at digital painting, I did not previously have the patience to learn digital art. 

Yuri on ice continues to inspire.

Hope you like it!

I am working on a bigger story related to this one, it will not be posted until it is completed in October. 

Much love,

-A 

[Tumblr](https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/)

 


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